For Her
by MsBBSue
Summary: Ghirahim spent most of his life alone-that is until a boy suddenly came into his custody. Was it all preconceived or purely organic that the young one who happened to be his ward was also the one he would need when the time is right? (AU)


**Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Nintendo, nor with the Legend of Zelda series. I do not own any of the characters and I do not claim any sort of statement that they are mine. This is a fan-fiction and should not be taken with a grain of salt. This is a story I have created and I am not in anyway making me money... I am poor... and possibly more so now having written this...**

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**_Notes_**_: This is not a fanfiction following a particular game. Call it an Alternate Universe, if you like. Link Garber is a young man, and Ghirahim Platine has come into his custody. Some things are different, but, the things that matter, they're still here-just in a different form, with a touch of love and a smudge of sadness. Enjoy, lovelies._

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**For Her**

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_Chapter One:_

"You are a coward cloaked in cowardice," Link says breathlessly, his eyes narrowed and mouth pinched at the corners like an old lady's disapproving frown.

"And gladly so," I say after catching my breath. I run a hand through my hair quickly and smile. "A fool is brave. Cowards are smart."

"And useless," spits Link. He fondles the pommel of his blade and sighs looking to the ground. I lean against the old abandoned barn as I look up to the sky; crystal clear and beautiful unlike the hell that ravages beyond the wall we stand behind. The wood creaks ever so slightly as I push my head back on the wall. "At least stories are told about those _fools_," he says curling his upper lip at the last word.

"And who do you think tell these stories?" I take a step forward, almost offended but more annoyed than anything. I narrowly saved his life yet he keeps going on and on about this silly little matter. I lean in close to his big ears and whisper, "The dead don't speak, Link." I then straighten with my smile beaming at his frowning face. "It's the cowards, and by goddess, they tell amazing tales, don't they?" I laugh and slowly remove the smile from my lips.

"Perhaps one day you will join them with your own stories."

"And who would I tell stories about?" I lean my head forward with an ached eyebrow as I lick my lips. The young man shifts awkwardly on his feet, too embarrassed to state his own name. My eyes light up as I realize this. "Ah, good old Link; too shy to speak up," I say as I raise my brow, watching him lower his chin in shame. "No one wants to hear a story about a boy who talks a good fight but takes shelter when the storm arrives." I shake my head. "You and I; we're not so different, now are we?"

His blue eyes fill with intensity as they look back at mine. "I am _nothing_ like you," he nearly whispers.

"Then prove it," I say with ease. I nod my head off to where the battle still goes strong. "Go on. I'll watch." I manage to keep my amusement at bay. "Give me something to talk about." I know he wants to stop my tongue, though, with being Link Garber, he walks away—mimicking the man he wishes so much to be, the man his mother borrowed the name from.

He was young—too young. I remember when I was a boy, I used to pick fights with the older children. Link was the type of boy I would have antagonized. He was tall, thin, and quiet—too timid to tell anyone, and too lonely to say stop. He was the boy most would walk passed and not think a single thought about. Perhaps that was why I latched onto him; that familiarity, that comfort from younger days.

I watch as he stands out from the wall, looking over at the men fighting. Something makes his back straighten, like this is some sort of honor. He pulls his sword out flawlessly, making it ring gently in his stretch out hand. In another man's eyes, Link's intention would have been seen as heroic, perhaps even glorious, but to me, he is calling on death, and death is always willing to answer back.

"You're not going to do it, are you?" I bark out, marching over to his side with my hands on my hips. My sheath bounces on my lap, clinking on my armored legs as I move. I turn my head out to the field and then back to him, coming my fingers ever so gently through my hair. As much as I try to hide it, he can sense my concern.

"Why not?" he asks with a sudden carelessness to his voice yet his eyes beg for a reason.

I straighten my back and shrug slightly with a breath. "You're young." I watch as a man takes an axe to the throat, his body falling as his head dangles by the spine. "These men have lived and you have not." I bite my lip, unwilling to have him hear how much he is worth to me. We watch for a moment longer in silence before I speak again. I turn to him as he keeps his eyes steadily on the fight. "You don't understand death, do you?" I shake my head and release a quick sigh in derision. "You don't even understand war."

I watch as Link raises his chin as if to keep from hearing my words. Only fifteen young years old, yet he carries the same mentality of a man twice his age. "Do you want death?" I ask, my tone softening to a more sensitive note. He stays silent as I narrow my dark ashy brown eyes. "I can give you death—if that is what you seek. _Anyone_ can be granted death, Link." I rotate my shoulders as they seem to tighten in the blasted steel I wear. "It doesn't matter how you die; we all end up the same."

"I would rather die fighting out there than die of boredom listening to your silly words." I invert my eyebrows, hurt but pleasantly amused. "But since you asked me so nicely," he says moving his eyes towards me with sarcasm licking off his tongue, "I'll stay. No sense in going down in the lot of them when most of them are already dead."

I nod my head as he turns his back to the field. He not only acted like he was older, but he looked it too. He didn't have the plump face of a boy, the hair on his lip was already thick, and his shoulders were broad enough to put any man to shame. Often times I would find myself questioning his age—if he truly was as young as he said or if he simply forgot about the years that passed him. The way he acted around women and girls, the ways he watched children play with longing in his eyes; that is what made me believe his age. No man would be will to awkwardly gawk at a beautiful young woman unless they were unaware as to how to act.

Link was a boy. I, however, was a grown man; too proud to say no and too cowardly to keep to my word. Link was the only promise I have ever kept. Why? Perhaps it was due to all those boys I taunted, a way for me to seek forgiveness. Maybe it was because I decided it was high time for me to grow up. If not for those reasons, I don't know and I don't want to know.

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**As always, reviews are much welcomed and significantly appreciated. **


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